


It Won't Happen Again

by Nebelmeer



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angry Sex, Anne being a mess like always, Crapos being Crapos, Dysfunctional Relationship, F/M, Porthos is the best, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 03, angry sex is the way, my stupid babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-10-07 18:12:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10366488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebelmeer/pseuds/Nebelmeer
Summary: POST SEASON 3“This won’t happen again.”There it was, Anne thought annoyed. Always the same lie, every time, always the same pathetic, pitiful lie. Then she closed her eyes, exasperated from that behaviour, not that she was that surprised, she couldn’t have been, but she couldn’t deny it hurt regardless.She had never thought she would have become something so… disgusting, so unworthy, she had... become her estranged husband’s whore.





	1. Dirty

Anne arched her back, feeling each muscle of her body relaxing.

The savage rhythm was over, she wasn’t feeling his breath on her neck anymore, or his skin against hers, their body weren’t unified in a cruel movement.  
He wasn’t fucking her anymore.  
He had already collapsed next to her, separating from her body as soon as the pleasure was over, almost avoiding her touch, like the one of a leprous. She could almost feel his shame growing as he was separating from her, leaving the bed they had shared so many times, the bed they had been sharing only some seconds before.

Anne _groaned_.

The minute before he was inside her, moving, thrusting, screaming and the minute after he was collecting his clothes frenetically, with the urge to leave her behind. She could almost sense his shame, his stomach twisting, his repulsion for what he had done growing.

“This won’t happen again.”

There it was, Anne thought annoyed. Always the same **_lie_** , every time, always **_the same pathetic, pitiful lie_**. Then she closed her eyes, exasperated from that behaviour, not that she was that surprised, she couldn’t have been, but she couldn’t deny it hurt regardless.  
It hurt her in a way she was not even capable of express. She could feel that pain in every inch of her, running through her veins, burning in her heart, making her feel sick. The way he had treated her made her feel sick, and the way he had screwed her, angrily and violently, and passionately and bitterly made her feel… _**dirty**_.

Dirtier than she had ever felt with every lover she had had in the past, dirtier than she had felt with every lurid beast she had seduced under the cardinal’s orders, dirtier than she had ever felt with every man that had possessed her for money or because he thought they had the right to.  
Dirtier than she had ever felt in her entire life, and this because this time it was him, it was about him. _Damn the man_.

“Obviously” she whispered ironically.

As if _it wouldn’t have happened again_. And _again_. And _again_.  
She was not sure of how THAT had become a routine, _but it had_ , and she had no idea how to stop that. She had no idea if she even wanted to.

 **Bound**.

The word came to her mind suddenly and almost in that same moment Anne felt the urge to repress those feelings, to push them down and ignore them. Destroy them, possibly.  
And yet she had let him do what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.  
She had allowed him to… **_to… have her, to control her, to defy her_**. She had let that happen. She had let him have her; she had let him… _made her his_.

**_His?_ **

She thought cursing her weakness. She was not his, as he was not hers, of that, at least, she was sure. And yet she felt her heart would have always belonged to him, always, no matter how hard she would have fought to have it back.  
In the midtime his focus was on adjusting his belt nervously, turning only eventually, looking one last time in her direction, hesitant, unsure of how to proceed, on how to deal with her, on how to… relate to her. It was a moment, only a moment and then he disappeared, slamming the door behind him.  
And at that moment Anne wanted to die.

**_To disappear._ **

  
**_To start over._ **

  
**_To forget all of that._ **

She had never thought she would have become something so… _**disgusting**_ , so _**unworthy.**_  She had... become her estranged husband’s whore.  
She stayed there, silent and immobile, feeling an incessant, infinite pain in the chest. She felt like that every time she saw him leaving without saying a word, without treating her with kindness, like a person and not like a ** _pound of flesh_** , not like a **_useless creature_**.  
Those thoughts were too much.

She had to force herself to open her eyes and reach to the floor for a nightgown, suddenly feeling uncomfortably aware of her nudity.

She was naked, not only physically naked, that would have been bearable and easy to solve.

No, she was also **_emotionally naked, exposed, vulnerable_**. There was no nightgown, no shirts to cover that. She was exposed, she had let him do that to her, again.

He was using her for his sexual satisfaction and she, against her better judgement, was letting him. And she was doing that because, against her better judgement, she still cared for him, she still…

No, she reminded herself. It was not the right time to indulge over such a sentiment. If ever in her life there was a time she could have allowed herself to believe in happy endings, to believe that romance would have ended well for her, well that time surely was over by then and he… he surely was not an option, no matter how many times he had visited her chambers.

She moved, looking for a more comfortable position, incapable of pretending that whatever had happened with her husband had no meaning, even if it made no sense.

Their encounter rarely made it.

The first time it had been an impetus of anger, which had unexpectedly turn into an impetus of passion. _Passion but not caring_ , Anne thought correcting herself. That time it had barely been an act of love, that time he had taken her, hardly, _almost crudely, violently_. But to her surprise she had found herself wanting that too, meeting his movements, asking for more. It had nearly been a fight, a moment where both of them had put their resentments in, all their pain, all their hurt, all their suffering, all those years they had spent apart. So much had happened and yet something was still there. All the pain they had caused each other didn’t manage to put that… burning desire out.

 _A couple of missions together, the nearness of their bodies,_ _their eyes on one another_.

She should have seen that coming; it was so obvious and predictable. But she hadn’t, as she hadn’t even imagined that he would… and she…  
They had to _stop_. She knew that. Their inability to keep each their clothes around each other was unhealthy and wrong. Athos had made clear that he was with Sylvie. That _he would have remained with Sylvie_. Sylvie, the good woman, the girl that had given him a son, the son she never managed to bare.

Anne closed her eyes once again, trying not to let any tears fall on her cheek.

He had wanted her, he had chosen her, she was his perfect match, _his one true love, they were a family_ , they… the only thought of the two of them being happy together with their child, made her feel sick and a few seconds later a huge wave of nausea hit her so hard that she had to stand up and reach for the nearest bucket.  
Oh crap, she thought throwing up, thinking about them for too long is making me physically ill for real, _crap_.  
Once the nausea and the vomit were over, she sat against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest.

That story had definitively to end, whatever there still was between them had to end.


	2. When Did It Start?

“Anne…?” a loud voice called her “Anne…?” the man repeated closing the door behind him carefully.  
She opened her eyes just to meet her friend’s staring at her with a confused expression “Anne…?”  
“Porthos?” she hissed “Why are you here?”  
“D’Artagnan send me, he needs the letters you’ve stolen from Conde.”  
“Right, I totally forgot that,” she said putting a hand on her forehead “I’m sorry.”  
“You've been distracted lately,” he remarked sitting in front of her.

And she had, they both knew he was right, but the whole the Athos’s drama, all that on-off relationship had taken all the strength from her.  
And she had tried to prevent that, and she had tried to stop that, she had tried to never think about that again. But how on earth could she have achieved that? That was Athos. Her first love, her only love. The man that had redefined her reality, the first one with whom she had really wanted to be, the first one that had made her heart beat fast, the first one that had ever awaken feelings in her, the only one that had been capable of making her feel… wanted, and loved, and safe. The only man with whom she had ever thought to… settle in, have children, live peacefully, maybe even to move, to go away, away from that madness of their lives, from their jobs, their duties. Obviously, _he had destroyed everything_ , and they had spent _years apart_ and yet…

"Are you ok?" Porthos asked eying at the bucket that was next to her.  
"Yeah" she reassured him "It's just... something I ate, I guess."  
He nodded unconvinced, before daring to ask what he had been wanting to “Has this..." he started hesitantly "Has this anything to do with what I just saw?” Porthos concluded, interrupting her thoughts, looking at her with a gaze she knew very well, his serious gaze “Anne!” he called again, and she rolled her eyes in return before speaking once again “What have you just seen?”  
“Athos... leaving your house, just now” the man explained “He seemed upset, and it looked like he had just put his clothes on” he added with a tone, that sound much more judgemental than she had expected.  
“And…?” she answered, unimpressed.  
Porthos stared at her for some instances, shocked from what Anne had secretly just admitted, it was so clear, and she wasn't denying that. Oh, my God, he thought, this is happening “ _Are you **SLEEPING** with **HIM** now_?”  
Anne didn’t move, but her silence was eloquent enough, so he grasped before continuing “How long...?”  
“Porthos…”  
“When did it start?”  
“I…” Anne hesitated. When did it start? Restart? She knew when.

She remembered it far too well. She could almost still hear Athos’s voice screaming at her, his feet following her. Yes, she still remembered it, no matter how much she had tried to forget, to move on. It had happened after a mission; he was furious at her, he had practically pushed her into an empty room of the Garrison. Anyone could have walked in at any point; anyone could have heard… everything. It had been reckless of him, but probably he had not… predicted how that night would have ended. She closed her eyes, remembering everything, almost feeling her husband’s presence behind her as she was entering the empty room.

That memory was so clear.

_“What was that? What the HELL were YOU thinking?”_

_Athos’s voice echoed through the room as he was following her “What were you even…” he continued, heightening the tone, but this time she had turned and stared at him for some eternal seconds before answering. Her eyes cold as her voice, harsh as her tone “I saved you, Athos. You and your useless brothers. I don’t really see how you can complain, after all…” and at that moment Athos’s words cut off hers, possibly in the roughest possible way “You…” he started taking a step closer “D’Artagnan almost died! And Porthos… he could have ended up with…” he continued moving his body imperceptibly towards the woman. Anne raised her eyebrows, and Athos felt almost frightened from her icy gaze “Constance had the Gascon's back” she hissed “and I” Anne continued fearlessly after a short pause “I… I would have never allowed anything happen to Porthos, you’re worrying for nothing.”_

_Their bodies were dangerously close, so close that Anne could almost remember how Athos’s lips felt on her, so close that she could almost remember how capable his hands were of moving around her body. Those thoughts were dangerous, she knew that._

_Especially in a moment like that, she knew that too._

_Those thoughts were so dangerous that she had to force herself to breathe in and out, finding extremely difficult not to look at his lips, not to think about the way he used to touch her, the way he used to hold her, protect her, love her, made her feel safe, and wanted, and loved. The way he had her. Damn the man. He always made her lose control in the most inappropriate moments._

_“You’re in over your head, Anne!” he screamed looking down at her scar, strangely exposed, and doing that he stopped for a moment. Only a moment, but at that moment Anne almost saw... pain in his eyes. And grief, and resentment, and guilt. But it lasted only an instance; then he went on “You’re putting everyone’s life at risk, my men…”_   
_“Not yours” the words came out of her mouth harsher than she had expected them to but she couldn’t help that. As he couldn’t help but look at her with a shocked and disgusted gaze “Excuse me?”_   
_“They are not yours” Anne repeated, “Not anymore, you left the job, eager to leave with your pregnant mistress, elated to be finally a father, have you forgotten?”_   
_“ **This is not about Sylvie**.” he said taking a step closer and Anne’s chin went up to meet his gaze “No," she whispered, "If it were about Sylvie you would probably be choking me right now.”_   
_A strange silence fell between them, neither daring to say a further word, neither daring to dig further. Their gasps were the only sound hearable there, then he broke the silence, and he did that with words that hurt Anne more than a blade ever had “ **I do love her**.”_   
_At that moment Anne wanted so badly to roll her eyes, but instead, she simply stared at him, trying so hard not to cry, showing herself as strong and indestructible as always, while instead, she was falling apart “What are you doing here, then?” her voice cracked._   
_“I’ve no idea.”_   
_“ **Go away** ” she warned him, her voice half a threat, half a please “Just go…”_   
_“She’s a good person” he whispered, without losing eye contact with her and then Anne couldn’t control herself anymore “SHE... SHE wants YOU to be the better men, SHE **judges you** , SHE **wants to change you** , and in doing so, SHE **misses the best part of you**.”_   
_“She’s a good person” he repeated “A faithful partner, a trustworthy companion, a…”_   
_“She’s the Virgin Mary, I get it,” Anne replied hurt. It hurt. Every-time he said how good his lover was, how incredibly kind, and gentle, and pure she was, Anne felt another small part of her dying slowly._

_She hated him, and her and herself for not being enough, for never having been enough. He had just hurt her, and she was responding fire with fire “Except for the fact that she got pregnant with an incredible fastness, didn’t she?" she whistled "Maybe there is also some Mary Magdalene in her, are you even sure to be the father of that child?”_   
_Those words had the effect she had been looking for. Athos’s eyes angered, she saw the pain and the rage in his pupils as he was pushing her against the wall, his elbow putting pressure on her neck, allowing her to barely breathe._

_“Do you want to kill me, Athos?” she mocked her one-time lover “Please, I’ve been dead for years now, this would be just a formality.”_   
_“I **loathe you** , Anne. I detest you, you’re a vicious, envious creature, an abomination” he replied with all his anger, all disgust but she smiled in return, giving him a simple question “Why are you still here, then?”_   
_“I don’t know,” he said separating from her, turning slowing, finally realising that he had almost killed her, again. Damn the woman, she always made him lose control; she still had that influence over him. He took some steps away, with the aim to leave that room - leave her - as soon as possible, when it was still possible, before doing something that he would have regretted._   
_“Come-on, Athos. **What do you want?** ” she provoked him in an impetus of rage, not sure why she was saying those words “To **fuck me** or to **kill me** , which will it be? We both know that you’re only capable of one.”_   
_“I **detest you** ,” he said bitterly, but incapable of moving. Incapable of letting her go “You and your lies…” he started hesitantly “Your lies have destroyed my life.”_   
_“Yeah” she agreed taking a step closer. She had no idea what she was doing, her hands were moving towards his shoulders, holding it hesitantly. Her hands were moving, but her brain could hardly register that, something else was taking over “Yeah, my lies destroyed your life, but before that my lies made you feel alive for the first time in your pathetic life, am I wrong, Oliver?”_

_He heard that he heard her and after that, something strange happened. He turned, meeting her eyes, his grave face illuminated by desire. At that moment he knew it, he just knew. Anne was right, she was, she’s always have been the only one that truly made him feel alive. She had unlocked something in him, she always had. She was his wife for a reason._

  
_Before he knew it, Athos was grabbing her, harshly, her head against his hard chest, his arms tightening around her back._

_Without saying a word, she started rubbing her forehead against him, in an attempt to free herself, not sure of his intentions, not sure if he wanted to kill her, to hurt her, or to fuck her._

_Then he started unlacing her corset, with a frenzy that Anne had almost forgotten and his intentions became suddenly clear. For a moment she considered pushing him away, there was not coming back from that, and it wasn’t like that would have changed their situation, it was not like that they would have come back together, it was not like that he would have left Sylvie for her after that. But it was just a moment, then his hands reached her buttocks, lifting her up, as she was wrapping her legs around him. It all happened so fast, before she could even process that he had laid her down on the bed, his hands suddenly impatient to get rid of his breeches and her underwear, while Anne was taking his shirt away. God, she thought, **he’s still beautiful** , there are new muscles and scars, he’s not so young anymore, but God, he still looks like a young God, what a waste he must be in the hands of that dull gir… but she didn’t manage to finish that though, or any other thought. A moment after he was pressing down upon her, entering her. Brutally, without caring, without patience, without a single word said, with only a deep sigh, as if he had been holding his breath years for that crazy instant. Anne gasped against his naked body, God, **she had missed him** more than she had thought she would have, more than she should have. He didn’t even look at her as he started moving inside her. He was **ashamed** , Anne could sense that, and he was impatient, and angry and hungry, so she opened her legs wider and heard her breath coming short as he was trusting, her nails started scratching his skin. Then as it had started, it came to an end and he collapsed next to her, still without saying a single word. They stayed like that for a while, separated and yet near, the bed’s space incapable of fitting them both comfortably. _

_They stared in silence at the ceiling for a few more moments, and Anne started to feel almost… comfortable with that, then he spoke._

_“What have you done?” he hissed with a broken voice, closing his eyes, desperate. Anne could almost sense his despair, his agony “ **Me**?” she replied exasperated. She hadn’t done everything on her own and he must know that, she thought._   
_Except he didn’t._   
_“This can’t happen again” he continued “It won’t happen again, do you understand?”_   
_“Of course not” she replied bitterly. A mistake, that’s what she had always been for him, a huge, life-changing, devastating mistake. She closed her eyes, broken, then he did even worse. “She’s such a better person than you. And than me. She doesn’t deserve… this”_   
_“ **Go away**.”_   
_“Anne…”_   
_“ **Leave** ” she insisted, but he didn’t move, so she decided to do what she could do best, hurt him as he had hurt her “Leave, Athos, your bastard and your mistress are surely waiting for you, such an honourable man, right? The one that puts his beloved above everything, even above the Law but that can’t keep his breeches on when he sees his wife.”_

_Those words. He looked at her, and she just knew she had accomplished the mission. Now he hated her, with every fibre of his body, he hated her because she had told the truth. And hearing that, being forced to face that... she knew it was the best way to hurt him. And it worked, he stood up immediately, he stood up with the intention of getting away from her, to collect his clothes, to go back home, go back to Sylvie and their child. But as he was doing so, as he was adjusting his belt, and fixing his shirt he, without even realising he was, started speaking._

_“Always better than a street whore, a liar, a cheat, a killer that tricks her way into a Comte’s bed, a Comte that **loved her**! A Comte that **would have done anything for her**!”_   
_Here we are again, she thought, my God, how we always come back here? How? “She loved the Comte back” she screamed at him “She destroyed her life for that love!”_   
_“I won’t hear this again,” he said collecting his pocket._   
_“Why? Because it hurts?”_   
_“No, because it’s false,” he said, without even looking at her “It was all a **lie**.”_   
_“How can you think that, after everything that’s happened, after…?” she started, repressing the tears she was feeling so clearly trapped in her eyes, but his actions stopped her. In a second he turned towards her, meeting her eyes, then he reached into his pocket and took out some money, throwing them at her, cruelly, disrespectfully, with a wave of anger and disgust that had almost scared Anne._   
_“Here, your payment, Milady. That’s how it should have always been, **my whore, not my wife** ” he screamed before leaving the room and when he finally did Anne wanted to die. _

**_What had she become?_ **

“When did it start?”  
Porthos’s voice brought her back to reality in the harshest possible way.  
“When did it start?” her repeated once again, looking at her with a shocked face “When…?”  
“Some… months ago,” she replied sadly. "Let's not talk about this"


	3. No

“ _ **I can’t believe it!**_ ” Porthos replied, ignoring her explicit and clear request to avoid the subject.  
God, Anne thought, this man can be even more annoying than his brothers, unbelievable. After that, she gave him a look that she hoped would have stopped him, but it had quite the opposite effect “All this time…” he started hesitantly, thinking back about all the unusual behaviour he had observed in her over the last… eight months “…you were screwing him”  
“Well he did his part, too” she replied rolling her eyes, it was not like she had abused him, Athos, on the contrary, had been more than… willing to have those… sexual intercourses with her. More than willing.  
“I knew something was going on,” Porthos said interrupting her thoughts “ _…but this_?” he continued with a shocked expression.

An expression for which Anne could honestly not blame him, an expression that she used to have as well “I know” she whispered agreeing with him. “I know…”  
“He’s with Sylvie!” he almost screamed some seconds later and Anne felt the urge to laugh at him.  
As if that tiny detail was something she could ever forget, as if the thought of him with her wasn’t haunting her dreams, making her feel physically sick and pathetic as if she had just thrown out everything “Oh now I remember” she said sarcastically. Thank you, my dear.”  
“And you don’t care?” the man asked her confused and Anne shook her head immediately in return “No. I mean…Yes” and then she snorted “I don’t know.”  
“Anne!”  
“Is not that easy…” she started, trying to defend herself “He’s _**my** **husband**_ , I was there before she even…”  
“Anne…”  
“I know he chose her” she replied irritated “But he’s still MY husband. The more I try to give up on him, the more… I fail. He’s Athos and…”  
“I thought he was happy,” the musketeer said interrupting her once again “And you…” he continued, “I thought you had moved on, you… were sleeping with that nice guy, the cadet, what was his name again? Joseph? Justin?”  
“Jacque.”  
“Yes, him” Porthos agreed nodding slightly, “You told me it was too soon to talk about something serious, but that you liked him, or that’s what I thought, but now…”  
Anne rolled her eyes. Porthos barely knew Jacque and surely didn’t know her or the motives that had let to… The truth was that whatever had happened with that “sweet, good, boy, Jacque the cadet” was all for… him, or maybe because of him, Athos, always Athos. How strange, uhm? Even fucking a pretty young thing had something to do with her husband. How _foolish_ she had been, always repeating the same mistakes, always destroying everything, always, using people and still expect them to stick around, always letting the others do what they wanted with her.

And yet Jacque had been good to her, he was young, maybe too young (not that her husband had had any kind of moral stands in taking as a mistress a woman young enough to be his daughter), Jacque was young and willing, and never tired.

He had… been a _nice, pleasing distraction_.  
He had served his scope, he truly had, even if, and maybe especially because, the others Musketeers had found out about him and his… particular relationship with her.

Anne smiled enigmatically at that though and then whispered: “If I recall correctly I told YOU he was a nice guy but that I had no intention of settling down and then I asked YOU to mind YOUR own business” she snorted “As I’m trying to do now. You have your letters, just go now. For God sake.”

Porthos nodded, she had a point after all and then stood up, reaching the door, but turn one last time in her direction “You… don’t have to stay alone… you know that, right?”  
“But I needed it,” Anne said meeting his eyes.

She didn’t like being seen like that. Vulnerable, needing, exposed. She hated to let anyone see her like that and Porthos nodded, respecting her wish. “In case you’ll change your mind… you know where to find me.”  
“Do you want us to be friends now?” the woman hissed raising an eyebrow. Surprised, shocked, impressed.  
“Aren’t we already?” he replied with his typical calm expression, so Anne rolled her eyes in return before whispering “Just go. I don’t feel well yet, and I need to be alone. Please”

The next time he sees Athos his dear friend is visibly drunk, his hands trembling around his last glass of wine, his eyes vacuous. Porthos looked at him, a man that used to be his greatest friend and that he could barely recognise at that moment. He sat in front in him, almost disgusted from the smell of alcohol coming out of his mouth.

“Isn’t a little too early in the morning for that?”  
“It’s never too early for a good bottle of French red wine. I thought I told you that, years ago” Athos replied snorting, almost the same way Anne had.  
“I thought that that part of your life was over” Porthos pointed out, looking at him and Athos almost laughed in return “Yeah I thought that too, dear Porthos.”  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Porthos dared, and his friend looked at him confused, clueless “About…?”  
“You and Anne”  
“No” he replied bitterly, looking once again at the glass “Leave me alone.”  
“I can keep you company, Athos. I want to.”  
“But,” He said interrupting his friend “You won’t drink because it’s 10 in the morning and you have a wife, and a child and drinking to death this early would be unwise. Guess what?” he laughed slightly before continuing “I have a child and a wife and yet here I am…”  
Pothos hesitated some minutes before daring to talk to him again “Do you… want me to bring you home?”  
“Which one?”  
“Your home” Porthos specified confused “The house you share with Sylvie and your child.”  
“Funny” Athos remarked drinking another gulp “I barely stay at that place, I’m not sure she even wants me there…”  
He stopped for some seconds contemplating the odd situation “Not that Anne wants me at her place either, so…” he continued, but this time Porthos stopped him gently “I can bring you to my house, then, if you…”  
“No” Athos replied “This…” he started pointing at the tavern “This is my home, it has all I need.”

Porthos nodded but dragged him out of there regardless, bringing him to his place. In the delirium of alcohol Athos spoke again, but this time Porthos truly heard the pain in his voice, not just the arrogance, but the pride, the pain. The true profound pain, regret, despair. “I never intended to, I…”  
“What?” Porthos asked with caution.  
“Having an affair with my wife” Athos answered, losing himself in remembrance “I… It was not planned, she took me by surprise. She always does.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“It was a one-time thing” he started “It was supposed to be a one-time thing, she was beautiful, powerful, unassailable, fearless, strong. I couldn’t resist her… I tried but I couldn’t. She was…” he stopped for some seconds, biting his lips as he remembered the taste of hers “But it was a one-time thing, I knew it had to be, for Sylvie and our child. I had to… it was my duty to stand by them, to be faithful to them and I… I resisted” he paused for some further instants “I resisted. For a while.”  
“And then?”  
“Then I couldn’t any more” he continued, remembering everything. All the gazes and the anger, and the smiles, and the fucks, everything that had led to that moment “She was there. Every day, flirting with everyone, and every night I was there, and I knew she was sleeping in the nearby, I…  
“And the way she smiled and the way she…” his voice broke “Suffered in silence when no-one was watching when no-one cared. She’s not like… Milady De Winter is not who she wants to be, who she is, Milady is just…” he continued agitating himself, his beats accelerating “She…”  
“Athos calm,…” Porthos tried but the despair in Athos face stopped him “Porthos…” he started “There is still my Anne in there, I know it’s true, but I… can’t… _I can’t be with her_ ” he continued, some cruel tears falling from his eyes “, And she hates me for this” he paused some seconds “And I hate me for what I do to both of them”  
“Sylvie” Porthos said simply and his friend nodded in return “I tried to end things again this time, I tried. Sylvie deserves me trying, she’s so good, she…but Anne…” he stopped once again, almost ashamed of his weakness “Anne called me a liar and a coward, and I…”  
“And you slept with her” Porthos finished for him  
“And I slept with her” Athos confirmed; there was no point in denying that.  
“What are you doing?” his friend stated after some instances of pause “What..”  
“Her” Athos replied “I’m doing her”  
Porthos raised his eyebrow in a moment of shock and stayed silent, genuinely surprised by his friend’s attitude and expression “What do you want to know? You judgemental friend” Athos asked lying on Porthos’s bed. “What do you need to hear to feel yourself better, uhm?”  
“Nothing, I’m sorry” Porthos replied, seriously worried for Athos bitterness. In all those years he had never seen him like that, never. His friend made a long pause, and then, already half asleep grumbled “We were… we are, two consensual adults. The first time… I wasn’t, WE weren’t… thinking, but the second… the second we were, I can assure you that, it’s not like…" he stopped again, unsure on how to continue “The thing is that we are bound, we’ll always be bound to each other. Until we are both dead, Anne is…”

He closed his eyes, remembering how that awkward relationship had restarted, remembering so clearly the second time they had been together, the time w _hen both of them were thinking, **wanted it**_.

_There were no words said, just a silent gaze on him, a silent burning gaze on him. The words had already been said the time before, far too many words._

_There was nothing left to say, or that was what Athos believed, and yet his feet had followed her obediently, eager to posses her, to taste that ancient again smell once again._

_He entered the room and saw her. Beautiful like an angel, her hair down, her corset far too tight, her green eyes shining in the dark._

_She was sitting on the desk, legs closed, hands resting comfortably on her side._

_“You miss me, yet?” her voice asked provoking him, just the way he liked it._   
_“I don’t. I told you, I love her, we are happy.”_   
_“And yet here you are. To your…”_   
_“Don’t.”_   
_“….Whore”_   
_“No.”_   
_“That’s what you said”_   
_“No.”_   
_“Do you regret it?”_   
_“No.”_

_Whispering that he took some steps closer touching her tight, parting her legs on either side of him, leading her in a dance that he could barely remember but he had missed for all those years. Anne did not move though, she simply kept staring at him, his trembling hands fumbling with the laces of her corset, impatient to undo them. Then with a fast move, he unbuttoned his breeches too, finally freeing himself from the pressure that was annoying him. For a very short moment he buried his head in the crook of her neck, leaving a small kiss on her scar, but that small sign of tenderness angered her, so she moved back, lying down amongst the letters and the cyphers, and the ink. She did that, incredibly uninterested in all the work she was messing up to have a quick, useless fuck with the man that used to be her husband, she did that, and she parted her legs wider._

_“Is that what you want, right? Your personal whore.”_   
_“No.”_   
_He replied watching her, as her half-undone corset was opening up and her breasts were appearing._   
_“Say it.” Anne insisted, looking in his eyes "Say it.”_   
_“No.”_   
_“Say it”_

_He didn’t listen and leant down with the intention to catch one of her perking nipples in his mouth, already enjoying the thought of hearing the sweet moans she used to make every time he pleasured her like that when they were… young. When they used to run in the field all day, making love to each other, being happy, being together._   
_He leant down but Anne saw what his plan was so she stopped him, putting a single finger on his lips._

_“No.”_   
_“No?”_   
_“No.”_

_She instead put her hand in his hair, holding it tightly, her legs wrapping around his hips and he couldn’t wait any longer._

_Luckily for him in a moment she lifted her skirts up to her waist, inviting and guiding him inside her. Then she got rid of his shirt, her hands exploring his chest, finding their final destination wrapped around his neck, putting her head in the crook of his neck, decided to avoid having to watch him during the act._   
_Eventually, he started moving, his hips meeting hers, his thrusts every time stronger and deeper._

_It felt good, so good that he didn’t stop, it felt so good that he started grunting and moaning, and screaming “Anne…” and then again “Anne…” and again “Anne…”_

_Athos felt her orgasm building as she arched her back and continued with his thrusts fiercely, fucking her as he used to do, the way she used to like and no long after she cum, but he continued, unwilling to give up on that contact._

_Only some time later he finally separated from her._   
_Without saying a word, he started collecting his clothes, just after she had collapsed on the desk, speechless._   
_Then she heard something she really hadn’t expect to hear._   
_Not from him._   
_Not even after a sex like that._

_“You’re not a whore.” he hesitated some more seconds before continuing “You are **my wife**. You’ll always be my wife.” and then he left._

That night he went home feeling ashamed, but something else was devouring him. He was hungry, horny, all he could think about was having her again, and for real this time. To kiss her, to go down on her, to suck her. But he couldn’t, she had made clear that he wasn’t allowed to, so he fucked Sylvie instead. All night, merciless.

And yet she was not Anne.  
And he _**hated** _ her for that.  
Because he needed Anne.  
He would have always **_needed_ ** Anne.  
His wife.


	4. His child

Almost two days after Athos’s drunk breakdown, Elodie finally found Anne. She had been worried about her for a time now, even before when Porthos had told her what had happened, or what had been keeping happening between Anne and Athos.

Not that she hadn’t noticed that something was going on.

Anne, her super reflective and objective friend, the Milady De Winter that worked for the Queen, the woman that was known for being capable of killing a dozen of man on her own without reporting the slight damage on her skin, had been… distracted, incapable of keeping her eyes of the man that used to be her husband. She should have known, she should have asked, but Anne’s eyes always sadden when he was concerned, hurt impregnated in her eyes. He was her weak spot, her pressure point, her infinite unfinished business.

Elodie snorted. Yes, she should have understood that whatever had been bothering Anne in those last months had something to do with Athos. And yet she hadn’t, and now she was looking at her friend who was moving among the crowd with the evident intention to pass unobserved, the hood hiding her face.

“Anne!” Elodie called her “Anne!”  
“Hi…” her friend replied shocked, biting her lips “What are you doing here?”  
“I just went to the market and then…” Elodie hesitated some seconds, weighing her following words “I was looking for you, I wanted to know if you were…”  
“…ok? I am, don’t worry, just leave me alone” Anne said holding some tears back  
“Anne…” Elodie whispered meeting her friend’s eyes “Sweetie don’t do this” she continued reaching for her arm “You are not alone, let me help you.”  
At that moment Anne snorted, rolling her eyes. She seemed so tired, exasperated, overwhelmed “You want to know why I am here? You know where the doctor lives, right?”  
“Oh Anne…” she hissed, afraid to ask the following question “…is it about Athos?”  
“How do you…?” Anne started, but then she shook her head “Porthos, obviously”  
“Yes” her friend confirmed before continuing “So is it about Athos?”  
“Isn’t it always?” Anne said with a small smirk, laughing hysterically.  
“Anne…”  
“Stop saying that name” the green eyed replied annoyed “It doesn’t belong to me. _Not anymore_.” she said bitterly “He hurt me. He always hurt me, Elodie.” she finished looking away “ _Always_.”  
“I know” Elodie agreed “We shouldn’t talk about this, I mean… we don’t have to.”  
“We don’t” Anne confirmed; then she stayed silent for some seconds. Elodie could almost see the flow of her thoughts running through her mind; she could almost feel Anne’s pain as she was reliving their story, then she whispered “You know when he hurt me the most? Do you?” the tears trapped in her eyes fought to escape, but she breathed in and out, trying to calm herself, then she continued “Not when he hung me, or when he tried to kill me, or…” Anne felt she was out breath and she closed her eyes with the need to isolate that pain “It was when I found out how he named his son” she concluded separating from her friend.  
There was a long silence, and then Elodie simply whispered “That was… gross”  
“It was” Anne agreed turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Twenty minutes later she was finally home, once again throwing up.

“Screw you, Athos” she whispered with a single tear finally falling from her eyes “Screw you.”

Then she closed her eyes and remembered the time he had hurt her the most, the time she had felt her heart burning, the time she had found out his child’s name.

 

They had been sleeping together for a while, even if sleeping was a far too gentle word, but there had been something between them. There was the sex, obviously, that was good but after that? They could barley talk, both ashamed, or confused, or angry. And yet it kept happening, despite his promises, despite her anger, it just kept happening, they couldn’t help it. Their bodies always found each other, their hands unravelling of their clothes, their fingers tasting each other’s flesh.

 

And yet he still had Sylvie, the woman he had chosen over her, and their lovechild.

 

The thought of the happy family was disturbing enough, but the day she had found out about the child’s name… that had actually been awful. She was at the garrison, eager to talk to the Captain about some urgent issue of the Crown and well… to see Athos as well. But she had to face reality soon, when a few moments after her arrival, Sylvie had reached the Garrison as well.

 _She had seen **everything**_. _The good, perfect, fertile woman, with her son, the child that soon run towards Athos calling him Papa._

_That was alone enough to break Anne. She would have given everything to be the one that had given him a child, their child. They had dreamed about that for a time when they were married and even after… the few times she had considered to settle down with him, to leave the past behind, to try again, to live happily ever after._

_But that had never happened, and he had found her, the good, perfect girl that had managed to give him everything he had ever wanted. Peace, stability, affection. And a loving family. All things she had failed to provide, all things that she hadn’t been able to give him because despite his kind deceiving words she was just his whore. She would have always just been his whore. And just that._

_Then she had heard Sylvie’s voice “I thought you would have been happy to see Tommy once in a while, Athos.”_  
_Tommy. Thomas. He had called his son… Thomas. And at that moment Anne felt the urge to… just leave that place as soon as possible._

 _What she hadn’t expected was for him to follow her, but he did. Before she knew Anne heard his hesitant voice, hissing behind her with his most worried tone “Anne…”_  
_She knew that tone, and yet she had no intention to be manipulated from that “Tommy” she whispering calmly, letting all her pain shine through “His name is…”_  
_“Thomas, yes” he answered reaching for her shoulder with the intention of calming her “Anne, please…”_

 _But Anne couldn’t calm down, not in a thousand year. Instead, she turned “YOU” she screamed “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?!?!” she asked him with her eyes, her beautiful green eyes full of rage “YOU!” she continued pushing him away “ **YOU CALLED YOUR CHILD AFTER MY RAPIST** ”_  
_Athos lowered his eyes for a couple of seconds before whispering “I called my child after my beloved brother, a man YOU MURDERED or have you forgotten that, Anne?” he finished with a slight anger in his voice “Have you?”_  
_“After all this time, after…” she said almost speechless “How can you…”_  
_“There was no evidence to support your thesis Anne” he hissed “No way to demonstrate that you were saying the truth, no…”_  
_But she stopped him before he could go further “So is that what you have been told yourself? All these years? That there were no proofs?”_  
_“There weren’t.” he confirmed, “He was dead and you a cheater, a liar, a…”_  
_“A common slut?”_  
_“That’s not what I…” Athos said shaking her head, but even this time Anne had no intention of letting him finish “Wasn’t it?” she asked angrily, then after a second she continued “Catherine fed you with so many lies, Oliver and you believed HER. And not me, your wife, that’s…”_  
_“My wife who I barely knew.”_  
_“ **Barley**?”_  
_“Versus my brother and Catherine, who I had known all my life. How could I…”_  
_At that moment a blink of fury hit her “What do you needed to know?” she screamed “What do you need to know now? How he tried to force himself on me?” A tear streamed down her face “Would that help, Oliver?” she screamed one last time, and he stayed silent, looking at her._

_Anne signed before continuing “He said he had found out the truth, all the truth. He said I was trash; he said I was dishonouring your family, his family. He called me a witch, claiming that your love for me was nothing more than me bewitching you if I recall correctly.” She stopped for a moment, biting her lips, trying to stop that unbearable pain. Then she continued “I told him I loved you, regardless of my past and lies… I told him I did love you but before I knew his viscid hands were on my neck, gripping tightly” and in a moment of anger she put his hands on her neck too, in that same position Thomas had. After that, she continued “He tried to choke me, he wanted to kill me, right there, for daring to love you, when I was nothing, and you were everything, but then…” Anne hesitated for some seconds, remembering that awful moment “He realised he could… have fun in the way. He wanted to punish me. And you. And he did.”_

_After that Anne pushed him down with her, his body against hers, his weight on hers, their breaths far too close “He pushed me on the floor and unknotted his breeches. Then…” she stopped once again, forcing him to follow his brother’s steps “Then he grasped me with one hand and wrapped me with one long, muscular arm. He was holding me close, and I knew exactly what was happening, and all I could think about was you. I couldn’t have done something like this to you, Athos.” Tears started falling on her cheek and on his too; then she continued “I struggled, kicked, scratched, but I couldn’t speak. Then he changed position, his hand reached my shirt and lifted it. It was happening, I was… I felt like I was cheating on you. I felt I was cheating on you. He was pushing me down on my back, his hand… and I felt I was cheating, how young and foolish was I?” Anne asked desperate “Then he pressed his thigh across my legs to stop my kicking. I was about to cry, Athos. And then, I don’t know how, I saw a knife, his knife and…” her words stopped again at that moment, and her hands pushed him away once again “You know what I did” she continued, covering her face._

_“You killed him”_  
_“I defended myself because no-one else had”_

There was a moment of silence where he stared at her, while she was trying to avoid his insistent gaze. Then he spoke.

“Anne… you did not scream.”  
“I was paralysed, Oliver” she explained herself “Shocked! Terrified, I…”  
“Are you telling me that you…?” Athos began, but Anne infuriated before he could finish his question “Yes. I had been raped before if that’s what you’re so kindly asking.”  
“No…” he replied, but this time Anne had no intention of letting him speaking “Yes, you know where I come from, right?”  
“Stop it, just…”  
“Why? Does it hurt?” she asked with a smirk, finally meeting his eyes “It should”  
“Anne…” he began “I paid the price, too.” he explained “For what I did to you. And to us.”  
“YOU” she screamed looking at him shocked “YOU paid the price?”  
“Anne, you have to understand…. he was my brother.”  
“And it was MY marriage! MY life” she replied devastated “Just go back to her”  
“Anne…”  
“I said GO BACK TO HER” she screamed “Go back to Tommy and his mommy, whatever, just leave me alone.”  
“Anne…”  
“I hate you!” she said one last time before standing up and disappearing.

Before she knew Anne had entered an empty room, where she knew she would have found water and a new dress, desperate to forget everything about that encounter. She was so in a hurry that she didn’t notice the young man that was already present there and in a moment of panic she knelt.

“Madame…?” the young man asked, preoccupied from her breakdown “I… I can’t breath” she whispered turning in his direction “I can’t…”  
“Can I help you? I could send for the doctor” he asked preoccupied, but Anne shook her head “No” then she hesitated some seconds before ordering “Unlace my corset.”  
“Milady!” he said shocked, aware of the inappropriateness of that request.  
“Do it!” she screamed in return “Do it!” and he obeyed, taking some steps back afterwards.

Some minutes later Anne had calmed herself down and started adjusting her dress “You can go, now.” Anne warned him “The show is over.”  
“Are you…?”  
“I’m fine. Forget about it…” she said harshly but then realised that that guy didn’t deserve such a tone, so she tried to be more delicate “What’s your name?”  
“Jacque.”  
“Jacque.” she repeated “I’m… Milady de Winter.”  
“I know” he signed smiling.  
“Of course you do.” she said rolling her eyes “Who does not know the late King’s mistress, the Queen’s assassin…”  
“Trust me, Milady, that’s not why you’re famous,” he said interrupting her.  
“Why then?” she asked surprised, and Jacque smiled gently another time before replying “Because you’re the most beautiful woman in France. In the World probably.” then he stopped for some seconds, unsure of what to say next, but then he did “We all think your husband is a fool if that can help.”  
And in that moment, for the first time that day she laughed slightly “It does. Thank you, Jacque.”


	5. Jacque

“Jacque should return today,” Porthos said casually to his wife while she was cuddling their two years old son, but the woman wasn’t paying much attention  
“Who?” she whispered in return, not really focused on the conversation since her child was laughing with his most precious smile, but her husband insisted “Jacque. One of our best cadet’s and also Anne’s…” he hesitated some seconds, clearly unsure on which words to use, then, eventually he went on “Ex-boyfriend, I guess.”  
“Oh,” Elodie replied giggling “That Jacque.”  
“That Jacque?”  
“The pretty young thing” she explained herself, but her husband’s shocked expression made her roll her eyes “Don’t give me that look, he WAS gorgeous.”  
“He was young, yes.” he agreed with her “Embarrassingly young, he could have been her son, but I thought Anne… liked him”  
“She did” Elodie confirmed, “He was handsome, tireless and he cared about her.”  
“With tireless you mean…” Porthos started, but his wife’s smutty smile was more than an adequate explanation “Oh…”  
“He was gentle but firm. He made her laugh and…”  
“She seemed happy; I thought she was happy” Porthos insisted “She was happy.”  
“No,” Elodie said interrupting him “I mean… yes, she was, but it was not that simple.”  
“She was…” he started, but the words died in his mouth. Porthos had to admit that had no idea why Anne had done what she had done, what she had been doing and what she still was “SHE” his wife explained “She was punishing… someone else.”  
“Athos?” Porthos supposed, and when Elodie nodded he continued “Why?”  
At that moment she let her younger child go and watch the little Jean-Louis taking some steps towards his elder sister’s room. After some seconds she turned in her husband’s direction and answered: “She had found out his child’s name.”  
“Oh.”  
“Anne was mad” she hissed and after that Elodie made a short pause, remembering that strange encounter they had near the doctor’s house “Incredibly mad” she continued “And desperate. She wanted to hurt him, at least that’s the impression I got”  
“You’re right.” Pothos agreed after some seconds “How have I not thought about that? It was so…”  
“So?”  
“Crystal-clear” he replied remembering some episodes, episodes that back then had seemed irrelevant, but that at that moment suddenly made sense “He hated Jacque” Porthos whispered, lost in his thoughts. “Oh, yes of course he did” Elodie answered, but her husband still had difficulties in accepting the truth “Jacque is such an amazing swordsman, I just… thought he felt threatened.”  
“He did felt threatened in a way.”  
“Because he was screwing his wife.”  
“Because” Elodie corrected him “He was a young version of himself who was screwing his wife.”  
“Those two…” Porthos started, and his wife nodded in return “Yes, they are a mess.”

Those words haunted her for another couple of hours.  
The last time he had seen Anne, no longer than a week before, she had been pale, so extremely pale, and even before that, her friend had been feeling unwell for… days and that was not something that usually happened to Anne.  
In the end, Elodie decided it was about time to pay a visit to her friend, even though she decided to leave her younger child to Constance, even though Anne was becoming softer, it would have been an excessive risk to dare her patient with two young, rowdy children.

When, sometime later, she and her daughter arrived at Anne’s place she found her friend resting on her bed, her face once again pale, her face exhausted.

“Anne…?”  
“You really can’t live without bothering me, can you?” Anne whispered, slowly opening her eyes, trying to focus on her friend.  
“No, I can’t” the other woman replied amused “Still in bed?”  
“Obviously,” Anne remarked annoyed, but then she saw the little Marie-Cezette hiding behind her mother “Is my little niece there?”  
“Auntie!” the little girl screamed reaching for Anne, who hugged her tight, all of that until the attentive gaze of the child’s mother. Elodie smiled gently. For reasons she could not fully understand Milady de Winter, the Queen’s personal assassin had developed a weakness for her little daughter.  
“Don’t give me that look” Anne warned her “I’m not softer.”  
“Yes you are” Elodie insisted with her victory smile and at that moment Marie-Cezette separated from her so strange adoptive aunt “How are you? Mom’s worried.”  
“She always is” Anne replied “Now go to play with my jewellery before I change my mind” she concluded and the child left in a hurry incredibly excited.

Only once the little girl was out of their reach Anne spoke again “Why are you here, Elodie? And where have you left the other one?”  
“I left my son with Constance, and I’m here because…” she hesitated for some seconds, unsure how to bring the subject up “I was talking to Porthos this morning, Anne” she took a small breath before finishing the sentence “Jacque should return today.”  
There were some seconds of silence, seconds to which Anne nodded impassively; then she hissed “I wish him all the best, but…”  
“Athos is not the man for you,” her friend said interrupting her “He has a family, and he’s an old drunk…” she continued exasperated “And Jacque…” Elodie said rolling her eyes “He was perfect for you.”  
“Perfection is boring.”  
“Maybe.” Elodie acknowledged “BUT don’t tell ME that YOU have never thought about how much easier your life would be if you just give up on the foolish idea that you and Athos might…”  
“Don’t.”  
“… and accept that someone like Jacque could make you happy, so happy… You know he loves you.”  
“Well, he shouldn’t” Anne replied annoyed “I’ve never asked him to.”  
“But it happened anyway.” Elodie insisted “Let yourself be loved, Anne. You deserve that. You deserve that more than anyone”  
“That ship has sailed” the other woman insisted harshly but not harsh enough to convince his friend to leave her alone. Porthos’s wife, in fact, smiled once again to her before saying “If you say so. But don’t say YOU never think about what Jacque could give you because that would be a lie. A giant lie.”

And at that moment Anne looked away, knowing that her annoying friend was right. She HAD thought about how much easier would have been to allow herself to love and to be loved by that young, charming, gentle boy, but that was not the road she had chosen. It had been funny at the beginning, almost regenerating, she was drowning, Athos was slowly killing her, and that boy had been air, fresh air, but SHE had chosen another path.

And yet she had liked the way he used to… care for her. The way he used to look at her like she was the Queen of France or the most beautiful woman on the planet. And also she liked the way he used to hold her, the way he used to kiss her hand and touch her body. But what she liked the most was that everyone knew it. That Athos knew it, that she was doing that right in front of him, of his friends. He had hurt her, and she was hurting him back, and in that, she had been trying so hard to find a strange and perverse sense of satisfaction, never finding some peace.

But there had been a time when she had succeeded, a time when she simply knew it, a time when she had seen how much her actions had hurt Athos.

The Musketeers had organised a special drill in the forest, the cadets had been divided into two groups, and some of the older soldiers had been assigned to supervise them. During the training, Anne had appeared from nowhere, and she and Jacque had vanished, with the intention of enjoying their time together.

Once they had been out of everyone’s gaze, Jacque had started to kiss her hungrily, pulling her into him and crushing her against a tree, not that Anne had any intention of complaining. She could still remember how reassuring and yet hungry his lips had been.

And she could still remember the greediness with which he had touched her thigh, pushing her her skirts up around her waist with a roughness that had made her laugh, happy to feel his hands on her skin. Then she had seen him, Athos, who was watching them, paralysed with a shocked glare. Maybe he had there for a while, maybe he had just arrived, Anne was not sure, but at that moment she saw his despair, his bitterness. She saw how his eyes had narrowed, trying to contain his rage, his disappointment, his pain and she had hugged Jacque in return, and she was still doing so as he was sinking inside her, pushing her up against the tree, his breath against her neck, Athos’s eyes on them.

Anne could still remember how she had gasped watching the man that used to be her husband. Watching him, watching his face, his eyes, watching him while HE was watching the woman that used to be his wife fucking her young lover. Anne kept watching at him and then suddenly pleasure became something else. Her body was feeling an orgasm rising inside her, her body was meeting his thrusts, urging him for more, but her chest suddenly hurt, and some tears fell silently but unexpectedly on her face. Before she knew it, she had cried so much that she could barely see.But at that moment Athos was already gone.

Anne could still remember how Jacque had just continued, without even noticing that she was crying and she could still remember the moment he had moved off of her and how his worried voice had sounded “Milady…? What…” he had started hesitant “Did I hurt you?” and she could still remember how fast and energetically she had shaken her head, the way she had readjusted her skirts, avoiding his face “No, you’ve done nothing, that’s…” But Anne couldn’t go any further. Not that any words were needed, not to him, Anne’s expression was clear enough “It’s about your husband again, isn’t it?” he had suggested, and Anne had nodded in return “I’m sorry” she had hissed, and Jacque had smiled sadly “So am I”, and those were the last words he had said to her.

The following day Jacque among with other cadets and Musketeers left on a mission. He had left Paris, and _he had left her._

“Anne?” Elodie called her, forcing her friend to go back to the present time “Anne..?”  
“I… I don’t…” Anne started, touching her belly “I don’t feel well” she grunted and so Elodie touched her forehead, worried “I think you could have the fever” she whispered, but Anne was already loosing conscience and Elodie decided to leave, she decided to leave with the need to make sure that the doctor would visit her friend “I’ll come back soon, ok?” Elodie said “I’ll call someone to stay here with you, while we are gone, just don’t…” and she kissed her friend’s forehead before leaving the apartment.


	6. Hope

“Aren’t you a little too harsh on him, Athos?“ Porthos asked when his friend bullied Jacque for the umpteenth time with apparently no reason.  
“I’m not” Athos replied grumbling annoyed, his gaze focused on his younger companion “The boy needs to learn a couple of lessons. I’m doing him a favour.”  
“The boy,” Porthos remarked, “Is one of the best swordsmen we have.”  
“He’s too eager, too willing, he…” Athos replied but the words died in his mouths, and he forced himself to look away “You know it.”  
“What?”  
“He” Athos started again, trying to control his rage “Always wants what’s he’s not entitled to”  
“You’re overstepping here” Porthos warned him, but the former Captain did not seem to understand it straightforward “What do you mean?” he asked angrily.  
“What I mean” Porthos explained, “Is that your motives against him are personal.”

After that, there were some moments of complete silence, moments where Porthos almost regretted provoking him like that, but then Athos hissed calmly “Nonsense. There is nothing between her and me. Not anymore” he took a big breath before continuing “I’m happy with Sylvie, we have a child.”  
“So” Porthos started hesitantly but unconvinced “Let Anne’s ex-boyfriend alone, ok?”  
“He’s not…” he whispered “That’s not…” but he never finished the sentence, since in that exact moment Elodie and her daughter arrived and the look on the woman’s face caught his attention. It was the most worried expression he had ever seen on his friend’s wife.

Without he knew it he had taken some steps closer reaching them “What happened?” he asked worried, and Elodie glanced at him for some instances before replying “Anne’s unwell, I just dropped here to…”  
“Anne’s unwell?” he repeated as his heart started racing faster than it had for a long time “How?” he screamed “What?” he continued desperately “Where?”. Elodie stared at him for a further moment; he had never seen him this confused and disoriented “TALK TO ME” Athos screamed at her, and strangely she felt almost sorry for him “She’s fever” Elodie explained “I don’t know much more. The doctor should be at her place by now, and I…” but she never managed to finish that sentence, before she knew it he had disappeared.

Not long after he arrived Anne’s place, his eyes desperate, his voice angry  
“Where is she?” he shouted at an armless girl who was boiling some water “She’s resting in the bedroom” she replied terrified from that man’s anger “The doctor is with her.”  
After that he ran to his former wife, former lover, former love side “Anne?” he called her terrified as he saw her pale face, sweating heavily “Anne” he repeated with a trembling tone, reaching for her hand, squeezing it tightly "Anne, please don’t…”.

“What can I do?” he asked after some seconds turning his attention to the doctor who was looking at him in returned, slightly confused “And you are..?” he asked.  
“Her husband” Athos replied “Now tell me how is she”  
“The situation,” he said calmly “Is serious. Especially considering her condition, her age.”  
“What can I do?” he asked, barely capable of keeping himself from falling apart.  
“Make sure she takes medicine” he warned him “Keep her warm and pray.”  
“Is she going to…” Athos began, but he never finished that sentence. Anne had survived everything; him included, the idea of losing her to a common illness was unbearable. At that moment the doctor saw his pain and forced himself to take a further big breath before answering “You can only wait, she’s in the God’s hand now.”

He spent the following hours taking care of her.

People came and went, and Athos barely noticed. Anne’s condition didn’t change much, she kept grumbling senseless words and vomiting at almost regular intervals, but after a while, she opened her eyes, apparently still tired and disoriented “Anne?” he called her relieved “I’m…” he started caressing her forehead “It’s Oliver.”  
“Oliver?”  
“Yes, yes” he confirmed leaving a moist kiss on her forehead “I’m here.”  
“I hate you,” Anne said with a trembling voice, and he nodded in return “I know” he confirmed, feeling a strange sense of happiness “I hate me too.”  
“Go away” she replied bitterly, and he looked at her, receiving those words like a slap “No” he replied after some seconds.

Strangely he had no expected to her to react this harsh on him, not even after everything that had happened between them lately. And yet the anger in her eyes did not leave any doubts on her feelings “I don’t want you here” she hissed with the feeble strength she had left “Go away, I can’t have you here, please” she begged, but he ignored her wishes “I’m not leaving you.”  
“YOU” she started angrily “YOU leave all the time.”  
“Anne…” he called her sadly, but her lucidity state was already over.

The next time she opened her eyes, Anne saw Athos sleeping on the chair next to her “I hate you” she repeated, and he suddenly woke up, opening his eyes with a strange smile on her lips “No, not really, Anne.”  
“How do you know?” she replied with a tremor in her tone of voice that forced him to lower his eyes immediately “I don’t hate you, despite everything you’ve done, I don’t” he hissed “I could never hate you”.  
After that there was a huge moment of silence, then she screamed “DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? Everything I have done? After…” she continued, but after some seconds she suddenly she felt a hot shiver down her back and started losing contact with reality. Her body started shaking involuntarily, and all she registered was that a moment after he was hugging her, trying to calm her down “Calm, calm peace” he begged but as Anne’s remained unresponsive a single tear started falling from his eyes, and his voice whispered trembling “I need you stay calm, please”.

She barely remembered what he said next, but she might have heard a voice calling for her, a voice saying “I need you to heal” and then the same voice calling her again “I need you to live, Anne” and eventually the words she was sure Athos would have never said again “I love you.”

At that moment Anne’s memory involuntarily felt back at the last moment she had believed that Athos actually still cared for her.

_It had been some days after Jacque’s departure; she had been in her room, already in her bedroom, ready to go to bed when suddenly someone had irrupted in her room. Obviously, that person had to be Athos, nervous as a fury, his eyes with a strange light._

_Anne, on the other hand, had remained unimpressed, looking at him annoyed as, unwilling to give him anything. Not even a reaction. She could remember everything so perfectly and as she was passing out the memory returned once again, stronger than ever._

_“What do you want?”_   
_“Anne…” his angry voice echoed through the room “Anne, I…”_   
_“Are you here in my bedroom to tell me again how much you love Sylvie?” she asked with a cruelty she hadn’t expected to come out of her mouth “Or to justify your disgusting brother again?”_   
_But his reaction was not what she had expected; he had lowered her gaze, feeling a sense of shame. A shame that she saw in his eyes, then he cleared his throats “I…You must know I’m sorry about that” he clarified “I feel so…”_   
_“What precisely?” she asked, losing in a moment all her sarcasm but his response muted her “Thomas”._   
_Thomas, he had said that name, he had actually said that name aloud. Then he continued with a softer tone, a tone in which Anne almost sensed some regrets “I should have… protected you from him. And I should have never, never called my child after him. I’m so sorry about that, Anne, so sorry.”_   
_“Why?” she cried out, trying to suppress her feelings “Why would you be sorry?”_   
_“Because he tried to force himself on you and destroyed our happiness.”_   
_“You believe me. At last” she exhaled, holding tears back. Surely she didn’t want Athos to see her like that, this weak, this sentimental, then he looked at her in a way she had almost forget, with such pain and yet affection, both in enough measure to break her heart. After that, he whispered, “I do.”_

_Anne looked at him speechless, surprised from his words and obviously, the moment of calm did not last. Of course, his voice had to disappoint her again “Be careful, Anne. Please”_   
_“What do you mean?” she asked genuinely confused, then he explained himself “You and the cadet, the one that was fucking you in the woods, against the tree. I’m sure you remember that”_

_At that moment Anne, against her initial expectation, smiled. He knew about Jacque. And he cared. He cared about what she wanted to do, about what she did, with whom she did what she did. He cared. “Why? Do you care now?” she asked pretending indifference and yet enjoying the power she still had over him._   
_“I do!” he cried out in response to her smile “You could have been seen by anyone! They could have judged you, and called you a tireless whore, a…”_   
_“Probably.” she agreed smirking “But I was seen by you, husband. Life it’s full of surprise, isn’t it?”_

_“This is not a game, Anne” he continued taking a step closer, a step closer to Anne, who was now lying on the bed, Anne that seemed so defenceless and yet Anne who at the same time had a smile and witty devious expression capable of killing with one look. And she had all the intention of hurting him “No, it’s not, poor man, did it bother you?”_   
_“You’re free to do as you please.”_   
_“And you” she insisted with a cruel tone “You…, on the contrary, are trapped in a relationship with that dull girl.”_   
_“Don’t” he warned her, but she didn’t stop “And then…” she started enjoying the hurt she was causing him “You come across an act of true passion. You come across a woman that was once yours and a cadet, your cadet. A young creature, someone who’s below your station but ready, willing, tireless, hungry.”_

_“Stop it” he warned her but involuntarily she moved her body towards him, cupping his hand around his shoulder, tasting his muscles “I know you’re hungry too.” she whispered touching his chest, her breath mixing with his “How could you not?” she continued, pulling him closer “You want danger, and passion, and love. You want me.” then she took a small pause, looking at his lips, eager to finally kiss them. But he had to make that move, so she looked at him in the eyes “You miss me, so take me. Properly this time” she warned him and this time Athos caressed her shoulder, touching the strap of her nightgown, with a clear intention in mind “And you’ll stop that absurd relationship with him? And with anyone else?” he hissed looking at her lips, lips those very sensual lips, those same lips that whispered with some cruelty “I did not say bargaining. I said take it” she hesitated some further seconds before continuing “Is that what you want want, too Athos?”_

_There were some moments of silence; then she heard a feeble reply “Yes.”_

Athos could remember that moment perfectly too.

_After that feeble yes, he leant on her, impulsively, and kissed her with a violence that took her breath away. And he felt that he suddenly became aware of his effect on her. On Anne. His wife, the woman that had given a purpose to his life. The woman that had destroyed it, completely. He hadn’t kissed her in ages, even the last times they had… been together he hadn’t bothered to take the time to kiss her, to show any kind of affection or interest in her. Because he knew it was wrong, feeling anything - anything - for her was wrong, but feeling that… passion, desire, attraction and affection, love… That was unacceptable. Because he was not alone, not anymore. Finally, he had found his place in the world, as a soldier, and partner, and father._

_It was all thanks to her, Sylvie, and he was failing her. Every time he had looked in Anne’s direction while she wasn’t looking he had failed her, every time he had thought about how… boring their life was and how, instead, unpredictable it had been when he was with Anne, how their apparently monotonous life as Comte and Comtesse, was never that, how Anne could make everything better, brighter and how Milady could unlock something in him, how she could set a fire inside him, every time he had failed Sylvie, the mother of his son, his family._

_Then the dreams had come. Every sordid kind of dream, he had dreamed of her in the fields, young and happy and her at trial, desperate and lonely, and the tree, the rope, the execution, the blood, the one she had spread, the one she had caused. But seeing her with another had changed everything. His breath was short, her hands anxious, his body… desiring her, as he had never desired anyone else. The previous times it had been impulses, almost impossible to stop, then he had grown to want that, but still to regret it, but this time, this time it was different, he knew it was. He was kissing her, and yes, it wasn’t a tender kiss, it wasn’t sweet or gentle, but it was still a kiss. He was choosing to kiss her, to feel her, to have her._

_He could barely remember how her lips tasted on his, how her tongue could travel around his mouth and his body, touching him like no-one else could, like Sylvie never could._

_Sylvie._

_That name hurt like a blade in the chest. Sylvie was the most… gentle, good person he had ever known. She was good to him and with him, and she had given him everything. Happiness, stability, love. A family. But she was not Anne; she would never have been Anne._

_So there he was, kissing her, his murderous wife and throwing his hands on her face, pressing against her, pushing her against the bed. His hands travelling fast around her body, finding her thighs and finding her, wet and ready, more than he had expected to be. God, he thought, how can she have this power over me? I was so determinate not to let this happen again, and yet…_

_At that moment she grunted annoyed, and yet pleased, under that grip that was pinning her down, strong, and insistent. She could hardly breathe as she was feeling his rough hand push her nightgown up, and he… he could feel that her heart’s speed was racing exponentially as he was looking at her. It didn’t last much, he was too impatient to wait, but for a moment he looked at her, truly at her, losing himself in her green eyes. She was so beautiful, even after all those years, even after everything that had happened and she still seemed so… young, naive, uncertain, overwhelmed. At that moment he almost saw his wife, his Anne and not the Milady De Winter facade. And at that moment Athos felt something that he hadn’t in years, something that he could hardly remember._

_Hope._

_That’s unfair, he told himself, Sylvie had given him hope._   
_Hope for a brighter future, hope for a future worth living, a future painless, with a family, a child, a peaceful future, a calmer future. And yet he hadn’t felt the kind of hope he needed, the kind of hope only Anne could give him._   
_The hope he feared the most, the hope that shamed him the most, the hope that he had tried to hide for so long. The hope to fix everything. The hope to fix everything with Anne and start over._

_He had no idea why that feeling had infected his heart once again, but it had, so he even allowed himself to… feel. Everything. The pleasure, and the satisfaction, and the orgasm, that overtook him before he could even process what was happening, what he was letting her do to him._

_But that time something unexpected happened. Once she too came, Athos did something unexpected. He touched her hip, in a way that Anne almost found gentle and forced her turning in his direction._

_“You won’t see him again. Not him, not anyone else” he whispered with a broken voice. A voice that confused her, because that voice almost seemed… truly… desperate. She could almost hear him saying “I can’t bare it”. Almost. But hope wasn’t something she was willing to gamble about, not again, not after everything that had happened to her, that he had done to her. So the words that came out of her mouth after were supposed to be there to mock him and yet, in a strange way, they were true._

_“You won’t sleep with her or anyone else, either”_

_At that moment he did something he had not planned, something he didn’t want to say, something that was a betrayal, something that was wrong. He agreed to her terms and with a kiss on her thigh he whispered “Fine.”_

A _nd at that moment, as Athos was going down on her, Anne did something she hadn’t planned, and she didn’t want to do either, she smiled. This time genuinely happy_.

Then she heard a name calling her and slowly went back to reality “Anne…” the voice was calling and suddenly she became aware of the fact that it belonged to Athos, Athos who now she remembered had been at her side all night “Anne…I’ve hurt you, you’ve hurt me, and we have done things that are…unforgivable, but I promise I’ll try. I’ll try harder, I just need you not to…” his voice broke at the only thought of her death “Promise me you won’t die. I will never forgive you if you die, Mon Cherie” he concluded with heavily tears falling from his eyes “Please Anne, don’t…”  
“Stop crying on my shoulder, Athos,” Anne whispered, waking up in Athos’s arms.

Once she had opened her eyes she realised he was in bed with her, but strangely this time there was no sexual subtext, he was wearing his pants and she her nightgown, and he… he was holding her in a way that seemed almost sweet, caring. Anne was still feeling horrible. Clearly, she had been sweating for quite some time, and probably she had had some convulsions, that’s why he had been on her side, that’s why he was holding her like that. Or maybe not, she could not be sure, but she had no intention of inquiring that, so she simply met his tearful eyes whispering “Stop crying, Athos. You’re being pathetic”. She told him that in a harsh tone, but Athos didn’t let say any further word. Before she knew it, he was pressing his lips against hers in a passionate, intimate, moist moment. That kiss was more than she had ever expected, more than she had ever imagined, that kiss and the way he was looking at her made her tremble “What was that for?” she asked surprised and he then kissed her forehead “Don’t you dare to die on me again” and at that moment she, against all odds smiled again. “I’m tired” she replied and he smiled too in her direction “Maybe you still need to rest” and she nodded in return adjusting to his chest.

Some hours later Anne caressed his chest “I’ve missed you, Oliver” she whispered distractedly “No-one’s like you.”  
“You mean no-one rides you as I do” he corrected her with almost a serious tone.  
“That too” Anne agreed with him, laughing, and after that she moved slightly in Athos’s direction, reaching his neck, smelling his skin. “That too.”

When she woke up, some hours later he was already gone.  
Back to her, obviously.  
To his mistress, to the mother of his child.

_To Sylvie._


	7. Is This What You Wanted?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING : 
> 
> DYSFUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP (AND I REALLY MEAN DYSFUNCTIONAL)
> 
> VIOLENCE

After he had been assured that Anne was out of danger, Athos knew it was time to go, to leave. He had already told her before all that after all, whatever there had been between them was now over. It had to be over, he had his family, and she deserved the right to start over. And yet he felt the urge to leave a small kiss on her forehead, looking at his love one last time before disappearing.

He walked for hours unsure of what to do, part of him was telling him to go back to Anne and part of him knew he had to face Sylvie sooner or later. Despite all of this, he decided to give up and entered a tavern; he didn’t have to face all his problems in one day.

Only some hours and many drinks later he eventually returned to his place.  
When he did, Athos immediately noticed that something was wrong. He could not understand what was going on, but surely something was different. Then he heard a voice, the voice of the woman he was supposed to love, to spend his life with, the mother of his child, Sylvie.

“Yes,” she hissed “I’ve packed my things. I’m leaving you, and I’m taking Tommy.”  
“Why?” he asked genuinely surprised, meeting her eyes for the first time in days.  
“I can’t believe you are actually asking me that” the woman cried in a moment of fury and he took a big breath before replying “Sylvie you’re not making any sense, I came back to you. I always do.”  
“Have you?”  
“Yes” he confirmed, “I’m here now, I’m committed to you.”  
“How’s your wife?” she asked with a tremor in her voice, her body tense “Tell me.”  
“She needed…” Athos started, but his partner didn’t let her finish that sentence “I don’t care what she needed!” she yelled at him “I care what I need. And what I need is not to be your second choice.”  
“You’re not my second choice” he assured her looking down, unable to face her anger.  
“Yes I am” she confirmed “At first I believed it was just sex, just some… remaining echo of what your tormented relationship had been, I thought we could have got over it.”  
“We can. I promise we can” Athos said calmly “I’ll be better, I won’t see her again, I promise. I’ll do everything you want, I…”  
“You stay at her bedside for three days, three!” she cried out “And you cared for her, you cleaned her vomit, you…”  
“How do you…?”  
“Constance told me!” she replied even more angrily “But this is not the point, the point is that…. What’s happening between you two is not sex.”  
“Sylvie…”  
“She’s your family.”  
“You are my family.” he replied taking a step closer, cupping her face gently “You and Tommy.”  
“You are in love with her.” Sylvie whispered separating from him “You’ve always been in love with her, you will always be in love with her. This is…” she looked away, and at that moment Athos could not tell whether she was suppressing her tears or her anger “You could barely conceal your pain and your rage when a cadet possessed her body.”  
“How do you…”  
“I’m not stupid Athos, and as I told you, I have good friend” she hissed sadly, then she took a long pause before asking what she did not want to “Do you want to deny anything, Athos?”  
“I’m not perfect, Sylvie, and Anne…” he started hesitantly “She…It’s not easy to… separate from her” he concluded, “But I’ll try harder, I promise.”  
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she said laughing bitterly “I don’t want you to try harder, I want you… not to want her. I want you to want me and only me.”  
“I do.”  
“No, you don’t. And I’m leaving” she whispered bitterly “You have betrayed and humiliated me, destroying what we had built with such great efforts… You…”  
“Sylvie…”  
“I can’t bare the look of you right now” she replied “I will at some point, but not right now” she concluded, and at that moment Athos reached for her chin “Sylvie…” he started once again hesitantly “Don’t give up on me. We have a son together.”  
“Have you told her you loved her?” she asked calmly “Have you?”  
“That’s… irrelevant”  
“Have you?” she insisted  
“Sylvie, I…”  
“You told her,” she acknowledged, “You told her, but you never told me, not even when I gave you a son.”  
“It’s not easy for me” he repeated once again “You know that, but I want to fix things between us.”  
“I am afraid this is not enough” she concluded before disappearing from his view, his house and his life.

He had lost her too; he had lost everything again. He had one thing left, he reached for the kitchen and looked for some cheap alcohol. The only friend he could always count on.

It was his duty to hang her; she had left him with no choice, it was HIS DUTY.

He had been raised to be a Comte, a man of honour and no matter how much he had disliked, and he had always disliked Thomas, he knew he had to avenge his death.  
She needed to die, there were no other options and yet after many years, after learning the truth about that day, after regretting everything he still doubted there would have been a better way to deal with the matter. He could have what? Spare his brother’s assassin? Run away with her? Thomas’s ghost would have haunted him forever, not that Anne’s had been silent. In those years he had believed her dead the sense of guilt had almost killed him and seeing her alive, damaged but capable of breathing had revived him. She had revived him. She was like that; she always had been. She destroyed him, she revived him, she graced him, she condemned him.

_I killed you_

He had told her one time, not long time before. She was lying on the bed, and he was tracing her back with his fingers, and that strange statement had slipped from his lips. At that moment he had heard her losing breath, then she had replied.

_Yes, you killed Anne de la Ferè. It was a long time ago._

Her voice had been so… sad. So desperate that he had felt the urge to hug her from behind

_What if I want her back?_

His request had been so strange, but he had meant that, he had wanted that, at that moment he had wanted her back and her words had almost killed him.

_Not yet_

Not yet. She had said not yet, and she had broken him as always.

Because he could not have her and he could not let her go, he could not stay with her, but they could not stay apart.

They were one and the same, and yet broken beyond repair.

Maybe THAT had been her revenge after all, to force him to long for her, to long for something he would never have, to want her at the point of destroying his life for that, again. But did she care? Did she ever care? Why hadn’t she asked him to leave Sylvie? Why hadn’t she proposed to start again? Why had she accepted the role of the lover when she been the wife?

_You know why_ , a voice echoed in the back of his mind, you know why.

_You know why._   
_Because she’s selfish, because she’s a heartless bitch, you know that. A cheat, a liar, someone who never cared about you._

Catherine’s voice’s echoed again

She would have married Thomas if he had been the Comte, she would never want you without a title, without money, without power. She never loved you or anyone else; she only cares about herself. Every smile, every kiss, every word. It was all fake, it was all an act, because, honestly, why would a woman that hot chose a man like you…

Athos drunk a further gulp of wine, his thoughts clouded.

_She always uses you, Athos, always. How can you believe a word she says, how?_

Catherine’s voice kept haunting him for a while and then without he knew it he had stood up, walking to the street of Paris.

Then there he was, knocking hard on the door, on her door and then after a while, he knew he had knocked the door down and he knew he was sitting on the edge of her empty bed, waiting for something, maybe just waiting for her.

Then something strange happened.

“Athos?” a voice called him “Athos…?” the voice insisted, and he instantly knew to whom that voice belonged and a wave of rage hit him.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked bitterly, drinking from the bottle he was still holding “Is this what you wanted, Milady?” he repeated, this time with a louder tone “Is it?” he asked again but his increasing raging tone had scared the woman, who was staring at him partly terrified, partly extremely annoyed “Is this what you wanted?” he insisted “Is it?”  
“I think you should leave.”  
“Is this what you wanted?” He screamed one last time “To break me? Is this what you wanted?!”  
“What are you talking about?” Anne asked with no clue, but his reaction after that was far worse than she had expected “Was that your plan all along?” he screamed throwing the bottle against the wall, wine and pieces of glass on the ground, on the curtains, everywhere.

“CALM DOWN!” she cried out, and at that moment Athos took a step closer “I’m not calming down!” he screamed, “Now you are telling me the truth.” He continued reaching for her pulse, tightening his grip each second more “THIS time you’ll tell me the truth.” he continued each second angrier “The TRUTH, Anne. You own me at least that!”  
“Stop it! You’re hurting me” she screamed trying to free herself from his pressure

“ATHOS STOP, FOR GOD’S SAKE STOP” she insisted when he didn’t let her go.

“You’re the one who’s hurt???” he asked without listening to her plea, tightening also the other pulse “She left me.” he whispered “She took the child and left because of you” he hesitated some further second before hissing “It was all your fault.”  
“My fault?” she repeated “I didn’t bewitch you, Athos.” she said trying to separate from him once again without succeeding, his drunk breath on her neck “It was your choice” she continued “Every time it was your choice too, I was not alone in whatever happened between us” then she stopped moving, hoping that somehow he would have… “Now let me go” she whispered “Please.”  
“Why can’t I love her?” he said freeing her “Why can’t I love someone who’s not you?” he continued pushing her closer, his hands on her back, in an almost gentle movement, but Anne, once again, rejected him, finding difficult to even bare his smell of alcohol “Stop it, Athos… Oliver, please. You’re drunk.”  
“I’m not drunk!” he screamed, regaining all his rage. And a moment later he had pushed against the bed, making difficult for her to even breath “I’m not drunk” he repeated, “But thanks to you, I’m dead inside!”  
“So am I!” she screamed in return, splitting at him “We did this to each other, Athos.” she continued disgusted “We have done this to each other for years, now.” she continued bitterly “You take from me, I take from you. And we destroy each other. Don’t you understand? “ she begged him “This has to end, let me go.”  
“On that, I agree,” he said grinning “But we can’t, can we?”.

After some instances of silence he reached for her petticoat, touching her tight, not that Anne was appreciating those attentions “What are you doing?” she asked with a serious tone  
“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Athos replied, pressing his body to hers even harder than before, then he reached for the opening of his breeches “Athos, don’t” she begged him but he was barley listen “This is what you want from me, isn’t it? The only thing you want from me” he said with a tremor in his voice, before reaching for a kiss that she did not want “To fuck you like no-one else can” he continued ripping her corset apart, and this time too she tried to separate from him, but his weight made it impossible for her to move “Athos no.” she repeated “I don’t want like this. You smell of cheap alcohol.”  
“You don’t care about me, do you? You care only about yourself. Who I am after all to you?” he continued touching her chin and Anne could almost swear that she saw tears in his eyes, not that she cared. Maybe. “Athos…” and yet her tone at this moment was hesitant, not scared, not anymore. Then he started crying on her shoulder “I’m the one that gives you multiple orgasms and nothing more.”  
“You are more than that,” she said to him “You know you are”  
“No, I’m not,” he said bitterly, touching his forehead to hers “And I love you regardless” he whispered. Anne then surprised herself touching his cheek, almost gently “You never think about the consequence of your actions, Athos. You’ve always been like that” then she took a small breath “You burn with passion, make careless choices and then live in despair.”  
“And you,” he remarked “You are pretending, you’re always… lying. There is no way to understand what’s going on with you, what are you thinking, what… there is in that sweet little head of yours” he took a short pause “This is who YOU are, who you have always been…I can’t understand you” he exhaled one last time before collapsing next to her “That’s why I fuck you the way I do.”

“What are we doing Anne?” he asked her some seconds later “ ** _What have we become_**?”  
“I don’t know what _**you’re doing** _ or what _**you’ve become**_ , but I do know that now you are leaving,” she said firmly, but he couldn’t obey. Instead, he looked at her sadly “I’m sorry for hurting you.”  
“You always are.” she replied, “But this does not erase what you have done.”  
“I drank too much” he whispered, “Everything hurts.”  
“I don’t care” she responded angrily, but when she turned in his direction, he was already sleeping. In a moment of bittersweetness, she did something she did not want to, something incredibly stupid considering how he had just treated her; she covered him with a blanket.

When he woke up some hours later, there was no sign of her  
“Anne?” he called one time “Anne?” and then again “Anne?” and again “Anne?” but there was no sign of her.


	8. Vanished

Athos looked for Anne everywhere, but the woman had vanished.

Not that her disappearance shocked him particularly, after all that what had happened, or better after all that had almost happened the night before, it made perfect sense for her to …

God, he thought, _**I almost raped her** ,_ who would have said that between Thomas and myself, I was the real monster.

_You have to get me out of here; you have to believe me._

The words she had said during her process echoed back to his mind.

_Please, please help me. Oliver, please…_

Athos closed his eyes. She was so young and so desperate.  
And she loved him, she had screamed that, she had… She was in love with him. And now she wasn’t, not anymore, or maybe…  
No. She doesn’t love me, he told himself, how could she? I have hurt her, multiple times. I kept hurting her for years, how could she still…  

And then he saw…  
Sylvie.  
Sylvie.  
She was standing there, in the courtyard of the Garrison, their son in her arms.  
She was back, his son was back. He had his life back.

“Sylvie? That’s really you?” he whispered taking a step closer “Is it…”  
“Athos” she replied with a nod, still clearly mad at him “It’s lovely to see you this drunk, as always.”  
“You’re back” he hissed, and in saying so, he took the child from her arms “Hello Tommy” he whispered to his son “I’ve missed you.”  
“Papa” he replied recognising him “My Papa.”

“Your wife came to talk to me,” Sylvie said interrupting them abruptly “We need to talk” she continued with a smirk, taking back Tommy “But not in front of him” and after that she disappeared, bringing their child away, probably to Constance, or to someone willing to look after him.

_Your wife came to talk to me  
We need to talk_

The words echoed back to his mind.  
Anne had come to her, Anne had talked to her and whatever she had said had been enough to convince Sylvie to come back to him.

“Anne spoke to you?” he asked anxiously the moment Sylvie was back “What did she say?”  
“She told me everything.”  
“Everything?” he repeated uncertainly. Everything was a weak concept. Everything… “What do you mean, Sylvie?”  
“About you and her, and how much you regretted letting me go, letting our family go.”  
“Anne told you this?” Athos asked confused “Are you serious?”  
“Yes, why are you looking at me like that?”  
“Nothing it’s just… Anne, are you sure, Anne told you this?” he repeated, still unconvinced that Anne herself would have been willing to go to his mistress, talking on his behalf, trying to convince her to take him back. Why would she do something like this? He thought, _why would she give up on me so easily_?

_**You know why** _

A voice echoed through his mind.  
She doesn’t want you anymore; you almost raped her, she hates you, she-

But Sylvie’s voice interrupted his thoughts “Yes… she told me that I was wrong in letting you go because you were still in love with me. She explained to me how difficult it must have been for you to move on from her and…” the woman resisted some seconds before continuing, looking for the appropriate words to say “She asked me to understand, to be patient with you and she apologised for provoking you.”  
“Provoking me?”  
“Yes, she said… it was all her fault, and she asked me to take you back, she told me she’s not worth the end of our family, and she’s right” she continued reaching for his face “We can rebuild this, Athos. I am angry now, but I know we can, just… Tell me she was right, tell me that whatever happened with her in the past means nothing to you know now. Tell me that your abiding love is for me and not for her. I know we can try again but tell me you are in this, Athos.”  
“Anne said she… means nothing?” he murmured hesitantly separating from her.  
“No, not properly” Sylvie replied, slightly shocked from his cold answer. 

She had hoped that Athos would have at least hugged her or kissed her but since she had returned he had been kind to Tommy, and to Tommy alone. Maybe she was misjudging him; maybe he just needed more time to adjust, maybe he was just shocked, or overwhelmed, maybe she just needed to reassure him “She said that what you feel for me and what you feel her are two different things. She said that she’s your… first love. Perfect, and young, and careless and free, and in a way, you will always love her but what she has done, all the awful thing she has done, made impossible for you to actually love her again. And then there is the love you feel for me, which is true, pure affection. There is no pain between us, only caring, love. We are a loving family together. She’s right, we can rebuild this. And we will, in time, but you have to swear that you’ll be committed to me and to our child” then she had to stop “Athos… what’s wrong?” Sylvie whispered, and at that moment he lowered his eyes. She knew him well enough to know it wasn’t a good sign.

“Sylvie…” he started hesitantly “I do care about you.”  
“There is a but, isn’t there?” she replied worried, and his silence was a confirmation of her deepest fears “You are in love with her. You always have been in love with her” “  
“I’m sorry,” Athos said, once again avoiding her gaze “I never meant to…”  
“And what am I to you, then?” she screamed hurt “Your hobby? Your pitiful case?”  
“No” he denied “You’re the mother of my child, you… You will always be important to me. Don’t doubt that” he took a big breath “But..”  
“But you are in love with her” she finished for him “You always have, always will. I got that” she said annoyed, walking away, trying to calm down. Then she turned, meeting his eyes once again “Why did you even start our relationship if you were so deeply into someone else?”  
“Sometimes…” Athos started lowering his eyes once again “Often… I ask myself the same question. The truth was that…” he took a big breath “For a long time I told myself that Anne was not a part of my life, and would never be again so. I convinced myself that she was abroad, happy, with a new life, a new husband, at peace, even children perhaps. I convinced myself that that part of my life was gone for good.”  
“And then you met me.”  
“And then I met you” he confirmed “And you were good. Incredibly good and more gracious than I ever deserved.”  
“And then you” she replied bitterly “You knocked me up and BOOM you were trapped with your baby’s mommy.”  
“No, no don’t say that” he hissed shaking his head “You gave me so much joy, and my beautiful baby, I…”  
“I” she interrupted him sadly, “I did love you, Athos, but deep down I always knew you were not…” she wanted to finish that sentence but the words never came, so he spoke again “I’m really sorry, Sylvie.”  
“That glove…” she whispered in return “It belonged to her, didn’t it?” and Athos nodded silently “I should have known better.” the woman acknowledged smirking “You even stayed by her side while she was ill, that’s not something you do just for anyone.”  
“I will provide you with everything you need.” he assured her “Both you and Tommy.”  
“I know you will.”  
“I mean it” he insisted “Will you let me visit him?”  
“Of course I will” she whispered. Then she said something Athos would have never imagined “Don’t do this again. Don’t do this to another innocent girl. Go to her, be with her, don’t pretend to…” she hesitated “Don’t pretend to love someone else the way you love her, never again.”  
“Are you sure?” he asked “It’s everything… alright?”  
“Yes, go to her.” she finished exasperated “Be happy if you’re capable of that”


	9. Stupid

_Go to her  
Be happy, if you’re capable of that_

Sylvie’s words echoed back to his mind as he was moving through the street of Paris. He could barely breathe for thinking of seeing his wife again, I can see her again, he thought, I can be with her again, we can start over. We will start over. She loves me; she always did, we will be happy, I can buy a house and…

Then he enthusiasm stopped.   
He looked for Anne at her place, at the palace, at the garrison, at the tavern.   
And he did not find her. Then her words, her pleas, came back to his mind.

_You have to help me to get out of her; you have to believe me.  
How can you do this? I love you!_

And then her pleading eyes, her hurt expression the day she had said that neither of them would have been at peace until…

_Until we are both dead_

And then when she had begged him to leave together, to start again, she had seemed so… young, naive, fragile.

_We have no reason in the World left to trust each other, and yet who can we trust? Who else knows us like we know each other?_

_If you come…_  
He could still hear her feeble voice. Poor Anne, so full of fear and yet at the same time so… excited. And desperate.

_If you come… we’ll go to Le Harve and sail for England together, if not I’ll leave alone, and you’ll never see me again._

I should have asked you to stay, he thought, I should have begged you to… But I’ve never been good at this. I’ve never…  
But Porthos is, his own voice echoed back to him. Go to Porthos, she might be there. And before he knew it he was knocking hard at his friends’ door.  
Then finally someone opened, and it was exactly who he was hoping for.

“Anne.”  
“What are _you_ doing here?” the woman asked, taking a step back, tremor in her voice, fear in her eyes “What…”  
“Anne, finally I found you” he exalted with relief “I was afraid that you…”  
“I never thought you would have come back,” she said coldly “Is there anything more you want from me?”   
“Sylvie has returned, she has forgiven me. She’s willing to start over.”  
“Good for you” she replied harshly “Have a nice life and leave me alone.”  
“I left her”  
“Ok…” she started hesitantly, so shocked by that news that she could barely think “It’s none of my business.”  
“But it is” he insisted taking a step closer, “She told me what you did.”  
“You’re welcome.”  
“I told her I chose you.”  
“What?”  
“Because I love you” he finished looking into her pupils “I love you, Anne.”  
“You… idiot” she commented, a new tremor in her voice “I…”  
“And you love me, and we have wasted so much time, you and I”  
“What’s wrong Athos?” she said annoyed “You miss the good free sex? There is no need for a trite romantic declaration for that, after all, I just want orgasms from you, don’t I?”  
“No, that’s not… I was…” and at that moment he lowered his eyes. He had really said and done so much, so…“You know I didn’t mean it” he whispered, “You must know it.”  
“Didn’t you? Because as far as I recall, I just wanted you for how good you were at fucking me.”  
“Anne stop,” he replied trying to calm her, genuinely sorry for everything that he had put her through, so much that she even believed he had never loved her. Oh God, he thought, what have I done? What… “It’s not just sex; it had never been just sex between us.”  
“As you wish,” she said in return, closing the door but Athos managed to put his foot in between “Why don’t you understand?” he cried “Yes, you were beautiful, but it was not the reason I married you.”  
“Was it not?”  
“ _ **No**_!” he screamed, “And it was not the reason we kissed in the Cardinal’s secret cabinet all those years ago, it was not the reason all this started again.”  
“What are you doing?”  
“ _I’m fighting for you_ , for us” he whispered, reaching for her hands “Us.”   
“You’re…” she said disgusted, pushing him away “It was a mistake for you, you said that all the time, it was always a matter of “It won’t happen again” and so on. The last time you almost raped me! And now you’re here and…”   
“I don’t know what…” he began unsure, feeling suddenly ashamed “It was an awful behaviour, inexcusable.” he took a big breath after that “I’m sorry.”  
“Fine…” she replied harshly “But I don’t want you around.”  
“Anne…”  
“Are you drunk?”  
“No” he answered immediately, and after some seconds of hesitation her found the strength to confront her “I’m not drunk, but maybe you were when you said those things to Sylvie.”  
“I…”   
“You?”  
“I was doing you a favour.”  
“Why?”  
“Because that’s _what you wanted_ ,” Anne said with tears in her eyes, careful not to let them falling “To be with her and your child.”  
“Anne…”  
“And it was true” the woman insisted “Everything I said was real. We are dysfunctional; we shouldn’t be together, we…”  
“I don’t care,” he said interrupting her “And neither do you,” he said taking a step closer, reaching for her neck, pulling it closer, aiming for her chin,  
“You’re wrong, Athos” she replied shaking her head and taking a step back “I don’t want this.”  
“You’re lying.”  
“I’m not,” she said almost exasperated “I quit my job, and I’m leaving Paris.”  
“ _ **No**_.”  
“ _ **Yes**_ , and you have to let me go” she took a big breath before continuing “You made your choice, now let me make mine.”   
Athos stood there paralysed for what it seemed an eternity, frozen in time, terrified “I will wait then” he said at last “Until you’re ready.”  
“No, you won’t.”  
“I love you, Anne, and I will wait” he concluded leaving that door and leaving her. He would have waited, as long as she needed, he would have waited forever.

Days and months went by, and Athos kept working, even though his thoughts were always elsewhere.

“Athos? Are you even listening?” the Captain called, asking for his attention but his response consisted in dragging Porthos away from the group. He needed answers, and he would have had them at any cost.   
“Where is she?” he asked harsh “I need… Tell me at least if she’s okay.”  
“Who?”  
“You know who” he answered keeping his gaze on his friend “She quitted her job and disappeared but I know, you know where she is, or your wife knows.”  
“She doesn’t want to be found.”  
“I need to see her” he begged “Please…”  
“I can’t tell you. I promised her that”  
“I need to… please, Porthos, just…”  
“She deserves to be left alone, Athos. You’ve hurt her, and she deserves to…”  
“No. Please” he insisted again “I need to get in touch with her, _please_. I love her”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“I left Sylvie, did you know that?” Athos said in frustration “Did you?”  
“Yes, I mean…” he hesitated some seconds “I heard some rumours. Everyone did.”  
“Porthos I…, you have to understand I made up my mind now, _I want her_. And only her.”  
“You _can’t_ go to her. She doesn’t want, and I can’t allow it” his friend replied, and after that, he stayed silent for a while, eager to help his friend and yet loyal to his other friend “But you can write letters.”  
“Letters?”  
“I will deliver them” Porthos assured, “I can do that.”  
“I… I can’t write.”  
“Do you love her?” Porthos said staring at him, and when Athos nodded silently, he continued “Then try. For _her_ ”  
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Athos asked doubtfully after a long pause, and his friend smiled at him before answering “There is only one way to find out. Write to her.”

And he did. Every day he sat and wrote, and he told her everything, everything that could reach his mind. He apologised, he told her he loved her, he asked for forgiveness, he begged her. And then he got angry and then asked sorry again. She never replied.

Maybe she doesn’t care, Athos thought after some months, _maybe she really has moved on._

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

In that same moment Anne was greeting Porthos and his always welcomed supply of food, but after a moment of awkwardness, she asked hesitantly “And… Is there a new letter?” and the Musketeer gave that to her, without a word said. In a moment she had turned, eager to read… to _devour_ that letter.

_Dear wife,_

_I want to respect your wishes; you know that by now, but I can’t stay apart.  
I am not good with words, you know that too, but I want to try. I told you I didn’t marry you solely for your beauty, but I know you never believed that. Now I’ll try to explain myself. You think the first time I saw you were that day in the Church when the young Anne de Breuil was praying silently, hoping to be noticed by the young Comte de la Ferè. _

_It was not so._

_I had already noticed you before that, some days before. You might not remind that, but there was Solstice’s celebration back then. I hated them, I always hated every kind of social activity, and I was bored to death, tired. I wanted to leave, and then I saw you. You were dancing, and there was a light in your eyes if you only could see how your face lights up when you’re happy. That’s when I fell in love with you. I know, now you think that this is a pathetic excuse, a cheesy one, but it is the truth. You were so bright, I couldn’t stop smiling, and your joy captured me. I would have followed you everywhere._

_But I tried to stay apart, I was already promised to another, and I had given Catherine my word, not that it mattered when I saw you again. I couldn’t leave you, leave your side again._

_You said I leave you all the time, what you never understood is that a part of me died every time I did that. You’re a part of me, you always have been, and when I killed you, I killed myself too, when I broke your heart, I broke mine too. You might disbelieve it if you choose, but despite everything, we, what we had was the best thing that has ever happened to me._

_You were right; you always have been, we have no reason in the World left to trust each other, and yet I want you to give us a chance. I want you to trust me again, to want me again, and I will do anything to achieve that. I know you don’t believe me, I know you hate me, but I hope you’ll remember that a part of you is still in love with me._

_I miss you._

_Forever yours, faithfully_

_Your loving and regretful husband, Oliver d’Athos de la Ferè_

 

“Are you ok?” Porthos asked, and Anne finally became aware of the tears that were falling on her cheek “I love him, I’ve always loved him.”  
“I know.”  
“And I hate him.”  
“I know that too.”   
“What do I have to do?” the woman asked overwhelmed “What should I…” she continued looking at her womb “Porthos, I…”   
“I think you know it” his friend replied “Deep down you know it.”  
“He executed me, broke my heart, left me and…” he cried “ _Why should I ever forgive him?_ ”  
“ _He has forgiven you_.”

After that Anne took some step back, finding hard to breathe “I was never happy without him. What does it say about me?”  
“Go to him, Anne” he encouraged her “Talk to him. Or burn his letters and start over, but choose” he took a big breath before finishing “Don’t stay here forever crying over the memory of your lost relationship”, and Anne nodded in return.

He was right.  
And she _**wanted**_ Athos.  
She _**had always wanted**_ Athos; she _**would have always wanted**_ Athos.

Before she knew it, she had left that house, which life, running to him, her heart racing more than she wanted to admit, her breath short.

And then she saw him. And Sylvie. And Tommy.  
They were smiling, laughing _together_ , their child walking between them.

Only one thought crossing Anne’s mind.

_How could I have been so stupid_


	10. Show me

_Oh could I have been so stupid  
Why on earth have **I** thought that **he** could have…_

Too many feels were overwhelming her mind, and her soul, she was aching, suffering, _feeling_ too much.

“Anne…” she heard him calling for her “Anne, wait! Wait please” but she couldn’t listen. _She wouldn’t_. She had given him so many chances and never, _not even once_ ; he had proven her to deserve them. The truth was that she should have moved on a long time before, but _**no**_ , she had to waste her youth and her beauty for a man that _would have never wanted her_ , or cherished her. She had been stupid, and naive, and she hated herself for that.

_He had let him hurt her.  
Again._

“That wasn’t…” Athos started taking her arm, but Anne pulled herself away, making sure not to make eye contact to him, tears already in her eyes, but not on her cheek. Not that this could prevent him from feeling her _pain_.

He had seen how deep her pain was the moment he had laid eyes on her. 

She was wearing a white dress, like the white dresses she used to wear all the time when they were young, and happy, and married. She still looked gorgeous, but her beautiful green eyes showed a pain that he knew far too well. 

_She hated him. Again._

But she had come for him, she had… “Why were you here?” he cried, keep following her “ _Anne_ …”  
“Nothing, clearly I’m just a fool” she replied harshly “Forget about it!”  
“ _ **No**_!” he screamed in return “You wanted to talk to me?”  
“ _ **I hate you**_!” Anne cried, turning in his direction, meeting finally his eyes.  
“Why have you come to me?” Athos insisted, grabbing her elbow “Anne, _please_ …”  
“Leave me alone” she repeated angrily “ _Let me go_.”  
“No” he whispered more gently “Why have you come to me?”  
“I… wanted to thank you.” she murmured “For your letters, to tell you they have meant a great deal to me, how _**stupid**_ I was.”  
“Had you changed my mind?”  
“No,” she said bitterly “Of course not.”  
“But _you had_ ” he insisted, feeling some tears unexpectedly in his eyes “What you saw…”  
“I don’t need the details.”  
“We are not together, Sylvie and I, I swear,” he whispered to her, but it wasn’t enough to placate Anne’s bitterness “Are you not?“ she said smirking "Because you seemed quite _intimate_ some… Seconds ago” she concluded annoyed “There is no reason to…”  
“Tommy spent the weekend with me” Athos explained, “And she came to pick him up, _nothing more_.”  
“ _Let me go_ ” she repeated for the umpteen time, unwilling to listen one more word, unwilling to give him _a further chance to hurt her_ , but he kept speaking “She will always be part of my life, and I care for her, but _**it’s not her I’m in love with!**_ ”  
“That’s… none of my business.”  
“ _ **But it is**_!” Athos insisted pulling her closer, their heads almost touching “You’re the love of my life, _it is your business_.”  
“I made a mistake” she whispered in return taking a step back “I don’t want to… _I don’t want you_.”  
For some seconds there was a painful silence then he lowered his eyes and separated from her. With a bitter tone, he told her “Because I’m a terrible person…”  
“Because _I’m with child_ ” she cried touching her swollen womb “Don’t you _**see it?**_ ”   
“I…” he started hesitantly “You’re…”  
“Pregnant? Are you blind?” she screamed exasperated looking at him “Of course I am.”  
“Do you want it?”  
Anne took a big breath, my God, she thought, the first thing he’s thinking about is how to get rid of their… “Yes,” she said bitterly “I do.”  
And at that moment he said something that surprised her “And the father what intends to do?”  
“The father?” she repeated without fully understand what was going on, barely registering the reality that was surrounding her.   
“The father of the child” Athos specified calmly “ _Of your child_.”  
“I don’t know you tell me!” she said smirking annoyed in an impetus of rage and when he didn’t reply she whispered in a bitter tone “You’re the father, Athos.”   
“I am…”  
“ _ **You**_ are the father. Am I still the love of your life now?”  
“The father. How can I…”  
“You still don’t believe me” she acknowledged with a hint of sadness she had never expected, not again, and turned, avoiding his gaze.  
“No, it’s not that” he whispered, but she moved away from him, willing to leave that situation as soon as possible “ _ **Anne is not that**_!” he repeated taking her pulse “It’s just that the last time we have been together was more than…”  
“Six, seven months ago? I was already two months pregnant when I almost died of that fever” she hissed “You can ask the doctor if you don’t trust me.”  
“Anne…” he called her again “I trust you.” after some moments of pause he continued “And you… you’re with my child.”  
“Well yes.”  
“Are you sure?” he asked still destabilised, and then in a moment of craziness she took his hand pulled it to her womb “Do you feel it?”  
“He’s… kicking” Athos whispered overwhelmed, some tears finally leaving his eyes “I can _**feel**_ it.”   
“She’s strong,” Anne said in return, smiling slightly.   
“Our child. At last, after all these years, after…” he could barely breathe “It seems I’ve been waiting my entire life for this moment.”  
“Are you… ok with this?” Anne whispered shocked “Because I don’t know if I can..”  
“I am.” he interrupted her harshly “I’m so happy, so very happy my love. And I’m still sorry for hurting you and for…”  
“For when _you almost raped me_? As if I could ever _forget that_ ” she said hurt “You scared me.”  
“I could only imagine” he hissed sadly, avoiding his gaze, ashamed of himself.  
“I was worried about the baby, that I might…” Anne said biting her lips.   
“You knew…” he realised suddenly “When you talked to her, you…”  
“Yes.”  
“And you send her to me regardless.”  
“It was the best option for everyone” she replied simply “I wanted…” she took a big breath “I wanted you to be happy. And…”  
“You’re too good for me.”  
“I’m not good” Anne replied angrily “I’m what I am. Good, bad, devious, bitter, damaged, loving, affectionate, with all the defects I have, but Athos I… I begged her to take you back also because _our child deserves better than us._ ”   
“Don’t say it.”  
“I quit my job because _I wanted more for her, or for him_ ,” she said looking down at her belly “I wanted more than us.”  
“Do you want to give him up for adoption?”  
“Only at first. Then I realised I couldn’t. I am too selfish to let her go” Anne said lowering her eyes “But I did not want her to…”  
“To have me?” Athos asked sadly “You did not want our child to have me?”  
“ _ **To have us**_ ” she whispered in return, and he looked at her with a hurt expression “Anne…”  
“ ** _We are dysfunctional_**. You know we are. We always hurt each other, we… Athos we have tried to _kill_ each other multiple times, how can we allow to have a baby? To even raise that baby together? What kind of example can we…”  
“Were you ever _happy_ without me, Anne?” he asked interrupting her, staring at her, decided not to give her a way out. “No” she whispered after some seconds closing her eyes “I’ve never been happy without you, but this…”  
“Nor have I,” he said taking a step closer. "Stay with me, Anne. **_We’ll find a way_**.”  
“What are you doing?” she asked as Athos’s fingers were moving to her neck, pulling her closer, his lips slowly finding hers in an extremely gentle movement. Anne tried to resist at first, but his sweetness destabilised her, his sweetness destabilised her so much that she could barely stand right.  
“Oliver…”  
“Give me, **_give us_** a chance, please… One more time” he whispered breathing heavily, begging her “ _One more time_ , Anne” after a moment of silence he continued “We are what are. Until we are both dead.”

And at that moment, against her best judgment, Anne nodded “One more. Just one.”  
“I’ve missed you” he replied with relief “I’ve missed you so much” and was only then that Anne took his hand, leading him into the fields.  
“ _What are you doing_?” he asked, almost worried that she might have changed her mind but she warned him to stay silent. Eventually, she turned in his direction “You say you miss me” then she dragged him down with her “Show me _**how much**_ , then”

Athos smiled at her, and touched her thigh gently whispering “As you wish, Milady”

At that moment Anne knew, just knew they would have work it out.

Not that day, nor that year probably, but _eventually_ they would have.

 _She hadn’t lost him_.

THE END


End file.
